


Ghostly Affairs

by Setari



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Fluff and Humor, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Multi, POV Outsider, Polyamory, Sansukh verse, dead dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setari/pseuds/Setari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eowyn watches the sunrise every morning for reasons she cannot explain, Faramir understands her feelings for King Elessar perhaps a little too well, and Gimli is well and truly fed up of playing messenger between the living and the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghostly Affairs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Stand Like A Flag](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776712) by [voxmyriad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxmyriad/pseuds/voxmyriad). 
  * Inspired by [Sansûkh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/855528) by [determamfidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/determamfidd/pseuds/determamfidd). 



> I'm writing fanfiction of a fanfiction _of a fanfiction._ And I'm not sorry. This is based on [To Stand Like A Flag by voxmyriad](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1776712) (which is based on the amazing epic [Sansûkh by determamfidd](http://archiveofourown.org/works/855528/chapters/1637607)), and you really do need to read that first, or this won't make a lick of sense. Seriously.
> 
> I have always rather liked Éowyn/Faramir, but voxmyriad's fic made me fall a little bit in love with the idea of Éowyn/Frerin. And then, because I'm a sucker for a good OT3 and a happy ending, this happened. Sorry, not sorry?

Every morning, Éowyn rose to greet the sun as it peeked over the horizon. It took a while for Faramir to notice, as he was more prone to staying up too late with his books than getting up early, but eventually he noticed. She woke him often enough, as she fumbled to dress in the dark, or when the winds were strong enough to make the balcony door bang when she opened it, that he began to notice the pattern. He watched her sometimes, with sleep-hazed eyes, as she stood on their east-facing balcony – and now he knew why she had insisted on that – tall and proud and bathed in the first light of day.

One morning, when he was better rested than usual, Faramir found that having been woken by her, he simply couldn’t get back to sleep. A little clumsy with sleep, still, he pulled on trousers and a tunic, and went to join her. He could understand why a person might love the sunrise, he supposed, even if he rarely took the time to appreciate the sight himself. “It’s beautiful.” He said softly.

Éowyn startled and whipped around to stare at him with alarm, a flush rising on her cheeks. For a moment, she looked embarrassed, almost ashamed, as if he’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t be. Then she shook her head, closed her eyes, and pressed a hand to her chest. Faramir chuckled softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just you woke me when you knocked the night stand, and since I was awake, I thought I would see what exactly it is that draws you from bed so early every morning without fail.” He explained.

Éowyn blushed again, and turned back to the sunrise. “I don’t know, exactly.” She admitted, leaning over the parapet, hands braced upon it, her face turned towards the sun like a flower. “It is just… this moment. For just this moment, I feel… connected.” Her flush darkened, and she dipped her head a little. “I-It’s foolish.” She stammered.

Which was not like her. Éowyn was too sure of herself, too stubborn and confident, to stutter. Faramir stepped closer and rested a hand against her back. “Even so, if you wish to speak, I will listen.” He encouraged gently, smiling at her when she turned her head a little to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “I enjoy hearing your voice, and I enjoy learning more about you. I am sure I will love your foolishness just as much as I love the rest of you.”

It still took Éowyn a long time to speak, but Faramir waited patiently, as the sun kept creeping closer and closer to being fully risen. “Sometimes… I feel like I betray you, with this. It is ridiculous, I would not betray you, but still, every morning I leave our bed to watch the dawning sun, because the first light on my face feels like a lover’s caress, and the sight fills my heart just as full as the sight of your smile.”

Faramir’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, so that is why you looked strangely shamed when I interrupted you.” He mused, and Éowyn flushed pink again. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but tease a little. “Shall I leave you and your paramour to your intimacy, then?” He murmured in her ear, and laughed when she made an incomprehensible sound in her throat that was some parts outrage and some parts embarrassment. He pressed his lips to her ear as he went on, so that there would be _absolutely_ no mistaking his meaning when he said; “Or shall I join you, and give your distant lover a good show?”

Éowyn elbowed him for that, but it was worth it for the brilliant – if slightly scandalised – grin that spread across her face as she turned to him. “You scoundrel!” She accused, but she was laughing. Her mirth softened into good humour and affection when she noticed the way he was looking at her.

“But truly,” Faramir began, his sincerity dulling the last of the humour in the air between them, although the contentment still lingered, “if I’m intruding on a personal moment, you need only say, and I will leave you.”

Éowyn tugged him close again, leaning against him even as she turned her face again towards the sun. “I would welcome you.” She said, and although it was an answer – and in truth the one he’d been hoping for – it didn’t entirely sound like it. It fell flat in the air like a sentence unfinished. Faramir idly thought that if Éowyn _had_ been sneaking out here to meet a paramour, that would explain the heavy expectancy in the air of more to be said. Neither of them rushed to fill the silence, though, and they watched the sunrise together.

“Have you ever loved another?” Éowyn asked, when there was little left of the sun below the horizon, except for the tiniest sliver.

Faramir blinked, and looked down at the top of her head, surprised by the question. “I thought I did, once or twice.” He admitted. “Perhaps, if they had seen me as more than the Steward’s son, I might have loved them truly, but…” He trailed off with a shrug. “What of you?” He wondered, turning the question back to her. Then he made a small sound. “I know you loved King Elessar, when he was still simply Aragorn.”

“I thought I did.” Éowyn agreed.

“I confess, when I noticed your regard for him, it made me curious.” Faramir said, feeling his own cheeks heat. It was _not_ the sort of thing one ever spoke of aloud, but if Éowyn could speak of her foolishness, then Faramir would dare to speak of his. “I tried to see what you saw in him.” Éowyn tipped her head back to look at him, but Faramir kept his eyes on the view. “It did not take me long to understand, and understand well.” He admitted.

Éowyn made a small noise of comprehension, and tucked herself more snugly against him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Now that’s quite a thought.” She murmured, with that edge to her tone that meant very good things to come. Faramir felt warmed through, a little dizzy with the heady mix of relief and desire and curiosity. “Having the both of you in my bed at once.”

That certainly was quite a thought. A thought that felt rather too big for Faramir’s head. He must have made some sort of noise, because Éowyn started to grin. Faramir was, to be frank, more than a little intimidated. He swallowed. “I’m sure it’s disrespectful, speaking of our King in such a way.”

Éowyn shrugged. “What we do in our own bedchamber is no one’s business but ours. So unless we _actually_ invite him to join us, he need never know.”

Faramir wanted to protest, but the words got caught and tangled in his throat, and came out as little more than a deeply mortified squeak. Éowyn laughed at him. “I wouldn’t.” She assured him, gentle, but still definitely amused at his expense. “He’s far too dedicated to his wife to ever consider it, but… surely it’s okay to imagine if he wasn’t? If we could?” Faramir wondered if it was possible to set his own face on fire with the heat of his blush, but he did not disagree with her.

* * *

Gimli enjoyed visiting Faramir and Éowyn. They had developed a close friendship over the years, with Gimli living in Éowyn’s old kingdom, and so close to her new home, which also happened to be where Legolas spent so much of his time. And as much as he loved his new halls, it was a great relief to take a break from the demands of Lordship, and rest in a place where those tedious duties fell to someone else.

The lord in question stumbled into the small dining area in the royal suites – Gimli and Legolas were in the guest rooms only a few doors down the corridor, so they usually took breakfast with the royal family – looking still half asleep and rather rumpled. Éowyn, who had been up when Gimli and Legolas arrived, and had shown signs of being up for a while before, laughed openly at him, but drew him down onto the settee beside her with gentle hands and passed him a full plate.

“How is it you can sleep for so long when your wife rises so early?” Legolas asked, light and teasing.

“The question should be how _anyone_ can get up so early.” Faramir mumbled good-naturedly. “But alas, my wife’s affair draws her from our bed far too early.” He timed it well, and Legolas choked on the sip of water he’d just been taking. Faramir peeled his eyes open to give Legolas a smug look, and Gimli roared with laughter.

Éowyn jabbed an elbow into Faramir’s side, her cheeks reddening. “Just because I like to watch the dawning sun every morning is no reason to tease!”

It was not quite a voice that Gimli heard, nor did he hear it with his ears, but there was a sense, a feeling, in his heart, of a sentiment of shock. It seemed almost like an exclamation of “ _Did she just-?!_ ” If Gimli focused, he could even tell which of his deceased kin it was; his King’s brother.

It was followed by another, softer sentiment of shock; “ _Frerin, that was your Dark-Name…!_ ”

And now it was Gimli’s turn to choke on his food. It only got worse when he heard Frerin again, all awe and wonder; “ _She remembers!_ ”

“ _Remembers?!_ ”

A gentle hand came to rest against Gimli’s back, and he looked up through streaming eyes to see Legolas looking at him with amused concern. “Gimli? Cefnelen? Are you alright?” He asked.

“Aye, aye.” Gimli croaked as reassuringly as he could, then turned his gaze on Éowyn. “It is just… Why did you call it that?” He asked her, which seemed to surprise and confuse her. “Only, most people just call it a sunrise.”

Éowyn opened her mouth, then stopped, and frowned. “I… don’t know.” She admitted. She was silent for a long moment after that, looking mildly disturbed by her subconscious choice of words. Eventually, though, she looked up and met Gimli’s eyes again. “I suppose I call it the dawning sun because it is more than just a sunrise. Though… what more, I cannot describe.”

“Oh.” Gimli murmured.

His heart near stopped when he heard – felt – Frerin again, all fierce urging; “ _Abkundûrzud. Tell her. Tell her my Dark-Name, see if she remembers it!_ ”

“ _Frerin, in Mahal’s good name-! Her husband is sitting RIGHT THERE!_ ”

“ _I don’t care! Let him hear it, too! He loves her, loves her well and true with all his heart, and he makes her smile where I can’t, because I’m bloody DEAD! I died before my One was even born, I never knew her in life, but I thank Mahal every day that I can know her now. I can see her joyful and happy and_ in love _, because of Faramir! That’s worth so much. Just to see the happiness he brings her is more than enough. So let him know, for he holds her heart, and treats it with all the care and reverence it deserves. I could nearly love him for that alone! Gimli, tell her. Please!_ ”

“ _And what of Legolas?_ ”

That didn’t get a response, and Gimli became vaguely aware that the conversation had picked up around him again, moving on to other things. He would wager he had Legolas to thank for that. His husband was well versed in covering for his lapses into silence whenever his kin spoke to him, just as Gimli was getting better at not answering them when he was in company. Finally, Frerin answered; “ _Well, technically he’s heard it already…_ ”

“ _Yes, but he didn’t know it was YOUR NAME!_ ”

“ _He’ll wheedle it out of Gimli later anyway._ ”

Gimli was a little affronted by that. He might be a little careless with their secrets, but to share another dwarf’s Dark-Name without their permission was an unforgivable violation. Behind Legolas’s back, he signed sharply - _I would never!_ \- And then aloud, he said “Legolas, ghivashel, could you fetch my pipe from our rooms? I’m craving a bit of Old Toby.”

Legolas looked at him, a question in the tilt of his head. Gimli tried to communicate with just his eyes that this wasn’t a simple request for his pipe. Legolas seemed to understand, because he nodded, then said “I expect to be paid back for such generosity, melethenin.”

Gimli chuckled. “Aye, I’ll pay you back alright.” He rumbled, because he could answer the unspoken demand for an explanation later _and_ tease his husband at the same time, thank you very much. Sure enough, Legolas’s ears flushed, and his eyes sparked with desire before he rose gracefully to his feet and slipped out the door.

Éowyn and Faramir knew him well enough to know it was not like him to ask Legolas to do something he was quite capable of doing himself, and were frowning at him in befuddlement. Without any preamble, he met Éowyn’s eyes curiously and said simply; “Abkundûrzud.”

Her eyes widened. “I know that name…” She breathed, sounding _very_ confused. “I- I do not know _how_ , but I know that name.”

“Aye, and you obviously know that it _is_ a name, even though you shouldn’t.” Gimli added. Éowyn startled, as if she hadn’t even noticed that she’d known that.

Faramir looked between them both, befuddled. “The name of a dwarf?” He asked hesitantly. “Only, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a name quite like that before.”

Gimli snorted. “Nor should you have. No, we dwarves do not use our true names lightly. We have use-names, that suffice for everyday dealings. Only our closest kin do we tell our dark-names to. The only reason I have the privilege to know that one is to act as messenger to you. It belonged to Prince Frerin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, who was King Under the Mountain.” He explained.

“Belonged?” Éowyn asked softly.

Gimli dipped his head. “He died many long years ago, at the battle of Azanulbizar.”

Éowyn sighed, a slow, soft sound that rang with sorrow. “Somehow that news is not a surprise to me.” She mused sadly.

“ _Gimli, tell her I’m with her, that I watch over her._ ” Frerin pleaded.

“ _Her husband is right there…!_ ” Thorin protested, although it felt like a token protest at best.

Faramir laid a hand over Éowyn’s in comfort, giving her a concerned look before turning a confused frown on Gimli. “How would a long dead dwarf come to care whether Éowyn knows his secret name or not?” He asked, and Éowyn’s eyes flashed up to Gimli’s in the hopes of an answer.

Gimli sighed heavily, just as the door opened, and Legolas returned with Gimli’s pipe. He took in the atmosphere for a moment, then returned to his seat and passed Gimli the pipe and pouch of pipe weed, which Gimli found himself suddenly deeply grateful for. “I do not know how, but the dwarven dead have the ability to watch over the living.” He explained, and Legolas inhaled sharply. “Most of the time, they are unseen, and unheard, but for some reason, Mahal saw fit to bless me with the ability to hear their voices.”

There Gimli stopped, suddenly very conscious of what, exactly, Thorin had meant when he said ‘her husband is right there’. It seemed terribly callous to tell Éowyn about the dead dwarf prince that was in love with her and was haunting her in front of him. Faramir looked slightly doubtful, but Legolas must have noticed too, because he chimed in; “It is true.”

“And- and Frerin?” Éowyn asked, staring intently at Gimli. “He asked you to tell me his secret name?”

“Aye. Because-” Gimli sighed again, and forced himself to just say it. He knew well enough by now that Frerin would give him no peace until he had spoken. “he recognised his One, the only one he will ever love, in you. You must _somehow_ have met him before, for he said that you _remembered_ his name.” He paused, then explained, “Which means ‘Dawning Sun’, you see.”

Faramir’s mouth was a little agape, but Éowyn kept her composure better. “I… have often had very vivid dreams. Sometimes, even, of events happening half a world away, that I only realised I dreamed of when news reached us weeks later.” She explained vaguely, as though her mind was elsewhere.

“ _Tell her I’m with her, Gimli!_ ” Frerin insisted.

Gimli grumbled under his breath for a moment, but obeyed. “He wants you to know that he watches over you.” He said, wishing Frerin wasn’t so persistent about him saying all this _now_ , right in front of Faramir. It felt very rude.

Éowyn’s face suddenly went very red. She closed her eyes, looking as though she’d like nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. There was a look of slowly dawning understanding on Faramir’s face, and he turned to look at Éowyn with a slightly incredulous expression. Then, to Gimli’s utter shock, he laughed. “I suppose it makes it somewhat crass to joke about an affair when it actually _was_.” He chortled.

Gimli was fairly sure he was gaping. Somewhat distantly, he heard – _felt_ – Thorin mutter “ _He’s… laughing?_ ”

“ _I knew I liked him for a reason._ ” Frerin declared happily.

“This isn’t funny, Faramir.” Éowyn insisted, burying her face in her hands.

Faramir grinned and tucked a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She dared to lift her head to look at him. “Seems you were fantasising about the wrong royal, love.” He said, all gentle teasing and fond amusement.

Éowyn made a soft sound of awe and comprehension, and the air between the two of them was suddenly quite heavy. Gimli felt himself blushing, embarrassed to be caught witnessing such a private moment. “And that’s our cue to leave.” He muttered to Legolas. Faramir looked at them sheepishly as they hurriedly got to their feet.

“ _I’m staying right here._ ” Frerin declared with relish.

“ _Frerin!_ ” Thorin protested. “ _You’re_ -”

“ _If you finish that sentence with ‘too young’, I swear on Mahal’s beard, Thorin, I will never speak to you again!_ ”

“… _I was going to say ‘invading their privacy’._ ” Thorin said, without much conviction.

“ _Well, I’m pretty sure that quip about fantasising was an invitation. Gimli, would you ask-_ ”

“Absolutely not!” Gimli whispered harshly as he followed Legolas out the door. He could have sworn he heard Frerin’s bright silver laughter following after them on the morning breeze.


End file.
